Holy Ghost (Virgil Flowers #11)(46)
“There’s something important going on there,” Virgil told the other three. “I can’t figure out what it is.”
They hadn’t figured it out when the deputy arrived, a woman named Lucy Banning. She pushed through the curtain, saw Fischer, did a double take, and said, “Oh my God, Janet, it’s you? Did Larry do that?”
Fischer started to cry. “Yeah.”
The deputy looked at Virgil. “I’ll take the complaint.”
* * *
—
She did that, and when Fischer finished a short statement, with Banning taking notes, Banning tipped her head toward the door, and said to Virgil, “Let’s go get him.”
Outside, she said, “I want to do this. I’d appreciate backup, but I want to haul his ass in myself.”
“You know him?”
“We all went to high school together,” Banning said. “I could never figure out what Janet saw in him. He was a jerk then, he’s a jerk now.”
“But he’s not the dumbest guy in the world . . . at least, that’s what Janet thinks,” Virgil said.
“Oh, he’s not dumb. Did real good in math and accounting. I mean, I’ll tell you, Larry had a rough time growing up. Everybody knows it. It’s his folks who made him a jerk, but a jerk is still a jerk wherever it came from. And you don’t go around beating up your fiancée.”
“Ex-fiancée,” Virgil said.
“I hope. I’ve seen a lot of them go back.”
* * *
—
Nothing in Wheatfield was very far from anything else. Virgil followed Banning over to Van Den Berg’s house. Van Den Berg was in his side yard when they pulled up, washing his tractor unit. When he saw them coming, he said, “What do you want, Lucy?”
“Janet Fischer said you beat her up last night. That right?”
“We had a fight, but she was into it, too.”
“Not what she says,” Banning said. “Doesn’t look like she messed you up much.”
“Look. Let me talk to her, we’ll straighten it out,” Van Den Berg said.
“Too late for that. I’m going to have to take you in,” Banning said. She unhooked handcuffs from a belt case, and Virgil moved off to one side, where he’d have a clear run at Van Den Berg. The other man looked at him and then back at Banning. “You always wanted to do this, you bitch.” He threw the hose he was holding on the ground, and it snaked around, pumping water.
But he didn’t resist. Banning put on the cuffs and led him to the car. Virgil walked over to the house and turned off the faucet, and asked Banning, “You want me to follow you in?”
“Naw. He’ll be okay in the back of the car. You getting anywhere on the shootings?”
“Trying to figure out why nobody can hear the gunshots. They were from a .223, so . . . they had to be loud. And we’re wondering why they’re all exactly at four-fifteen.”
Banning scratched her ear, frowning, then shook her head, and said, “Beats me.”
They loaded Van Den Berg into the backseat of the patrol car, Banning said, “See ya,” and drove away. Virgil got in his truck and started back to Skinner & Holland. He was halfway there when the patrol car pulled up behind him, and the flashers came on.
Virgil pulled over, and Banning hopped out, and when Virgil rolled down his window she said, “Larry says he has something to tell you.”
“Okay.” Virgil followed her back to the patrol car, and Banning opened the back door, and Van Den Berg leaned out, and said, “I know why nobody heard the gunshots and why everybody got shot at four-fifteen. You let me go, and I’ll tell you.”
Virgil said, “Larry, if you know something, you have to tell us. It’s murder we’re talking about now. You beating up Janet, that’s a whole different thing.”
“You’re not going to let me go? Then you know what? You can go fuck yourself.” He looked at Banning. “Shut the door.”
Virgil said, “Larry . . .”
“Fuck you.” He laughed. “Fuck you.”
Van Den Berg sat in the center of the backseat, staring at the screen separating him from the front seat, and wouldn’t say anything else. Virgil tried again, but Van Den Berg turned away.
Virgil said to Banning, “Take him.”
She slammed the back door, and Virgil said, quietly, “See if he’ll talk to you. Maybe he does know something.”
“I will,” Banning said. “Sorry about that language.”
“Lot of people have been telling me to go fuck myself,” Virgil said. “It’s starting to wear on me.”
* * *
—
At the store, Virgil found Skinner and Fischer still in the back room, and Fischer asked, anxiously, if they’d made the arrest.
“He’s on his way to jail,” Virgil said.
Holland came in and asked the same question as Fischer.
Virgil answered the same way, but added, “You know what? He says he knows why nobody heard those shots. And why all those people got shot at the same time. He said he’d tell me if I’d let him off the hook on the assault. I wouldn’t do that. But he figured it out in five minutes, and I kinda believed him.”